


Any Other Rose

by my_mind_is_racing



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/M, Rating Is Likely To Change, and yes I’m being dramatic, but idk to what, but if you know me, could be a drabble, enjoy, lmao so yeah now its a multichap, only time will tell, past midlink, post tp zelink, slight mentions of faint midlink, so I want to turn this into a series, so could be multi-chap, so your guess is as good as mine, tp zelink, we’ll see how this goes, you know that idea is highly susceptible to sour, zelink, zelink is endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mind_is_racing/pseuds/my_mind_is_racing
Summary: The twilight is gone and so is its princess. Now Link stands, a hero with no home or place in the world. The twilight and all that comes with it might be gone, but so too are the embers of the life Link lead before.Link tries to go back to Ordon and continue where things left off, pretend that nothing is wrong; but he does not belong there anymore. He is not the same boy he used to be and the world has gone ahead without him. What happens when the newly crowned Queen Zelda--the only other person in the world who feels as out of place as he does--calls him to the castle to be her personal guard? Can they manage to, perhaps, build a new life together?
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	1. Blue-Eyed Beast

**Author's Note:**

> so yes, I am LoZ trash and more specifically, zelink trash. so take this, the more I reread it the more I hate it. this may or may not turn into a series but please, take anything I say with a grain of salt, I know I do.

The castle was not what he thought it would be. 

Granted, Hyrule isn’t exactly in a good place right now, not to mention he thought the first time he stepped foot in the castle he just assumed he’d be doing so as a human. So, really, nothing is how he thought it’d be at the moment. 

It’s much darker than he expected and not just because of the twilight like dust particles floating around and lingering in the air. The interior was decorated with a gothic theme in mind. Dark wallpapers wrap around every wall and grand yet low-hanging chandeliers flicker dimly as they make their way through. Even the occasional suit of armor is darkly tinted and haunting to his fresh set of eyes. The walls are littered with empty paintings. The talent is there and every minute little detail, painstakingly crafted, but Link feels as though he can sense the numbness and apathy of the painter as they continued with each brush stroke. Lastly, a long, deep red velvet rug lined the entirety of the stone floors. It felt elegant and entirely unnecessary. 

The mud underneath his paws assured that whoever cleaned the castle would have a hard time when they returned. 

With Midna’s instructions, Link ascended a spiral stone staircase all the way up to the top of the highest tower. It was an easy feat. So easy, in fact, that Link began to grow weary. He’d been prepared for more guards or knights, anyone to come and try to see him out. However, the castle was completely empty, like a shell that a bright-eyed crab no longer had any use for. It reminded him of great oak trees in Ordon that had hollowed out, left as a mere fraction of its former glory. Link thinks that he would’ve liked to see the castle before the twilight, when there were people skipping about and lives being lived inside. 

Once they finally cross the last step, they come face-to-face with an extravagant single spruce door. Link paused. The door had been left ajar. 

Midna huffed from her place atop him and pulled not so gently on his fur. “Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation? Go in.”

And sparing one more look down the stairs he’d just climbed, he did. 

The room itself was what Link’s farmhands considered the lap of luxury. All around there were expensive looking things. A vanity mirror that looks as though made of porcelain, a plush velvet armchair beside a mountainous shelf of thick and complex books, their pages yellowed from time yet lacking the dust of misuse. The chandelier above him was not quite the size of those he’d seen in the corridors, not to mention the peek he’d gotten at the one in the throne room, but it was magnificent nonetheless. All of which was tied together by the large four poster bed, adorned with plush pillows and purple silk sheets. Really, Link thought, it made quite the pretty prison. 

Yet, it was none of these things that caught his attention. 

On the opposite side of the room, staring out the only lone window in the space, stood a hooded figure. It was hard to discern anything about them, as their cloak shrouded everything from view. The only sound came from the rhythm of all three of their breathing, only picked up on by his newly astute sense of hearing. 

Something in him, he’s not exactly sure what, is put on edge by the presence of this figure. Perhaps it’s because he sees his disadvantage. Midna said she wanted to introduce him and despite the thick blanket of twilight around them, he feels he is the only one left in the dark. 

A growl escapes him and Midna giggles atop him. It is not so soft a sound as you’d expect, no, more amused than anything else. 

At this, the figure turns to face them. Nothing but the soft tip of their nose is revealed beneath their hood, but somehow Link finds himself falling quiet. For some foreign reason completely unknown to him, he does not feel the figure will harm him. Still, he elects to keep his distance. 

But another tug on his fur has him inching forward and he can practically feel the way Midna’s eyes roll. Even with the diminishing distance between them, Link cannot make out any other feature of said hooded figure, but they gasp and Link thinks it sounded slightly more feminine. 

“Midna?” The figure says as though caught off guard. Had they not been expecting them? Was Midna the one lying to him?

The imp chuckles, a low rumbling sound. “You remembered my name? What an honor for me…” 

The figure does not deign to reply to her comment, but they do appear to shift their focus toward him. “So this is the one for whom you were searching…” 

“He’s not exactly what I had in mind…” Midna smirks and despite all his confusion, Link feels compelled to snort through his nose in indignation. “But I guess he’ll do.”

Suddenly, the figure, whom he can now identify as female, crouches down in front of him. He deduces that there must be some kind of magic tied to her cloak, as he still struggles to define the features of her face while she sits directly before him. 

Her head bows as she stares at the chain still wrapped loosely around his leg. “You were imprisoned?” She asks and without knowing why, he thinks he can detect genuine worry and something akin to guilt in her tone. Without his ability to speak, all Link can do is nod. This does not seem to assure her. “I’m sorry.”

He finds he believes her when she says this. 

“Poor thing,” Midna laments in faux pity, petting the area around his heart. “He has no idea what’s happening. Don’t you think you should explain to him what you’ve managed to do? You owe him that much…  _ Twilight Princess _ .”

She says this like a jab or some sort of inside joke between the two of them that leaves Link left out in the cold. Link knows that had he bore his human face, his expression would give away the bemusement that beckons him to seek answers in the girl's eyes he cannot see. Though, his wolf must do well enough as the girl sighs, hesitating for a moment before looking back to him. 

And slowly, she begins to recount the tale of Hyrule and it’s princess who surrendered to the twilight. Her highness had been ready, knights in every corner of the throne room, swords in hand, as they waited for the usurper to arrive. But he did not come alone. 

From within the shadows called by his presence, dark and twisted beasts with red encryptions coded into their skin attacked them all. Mercy was not permitted to her subjects. The bodies of some scattered and were thrown away like rags while the rest who still lived were dangled in front of her like toys to be played with when one is bored. The usurper, Zant as the girl called him, offered the princess an ultimatum: surrender or die. 

Looking around and recognizing defeat, the princess surrendered her castle, choosing to save her life and those of her citizens as she was chased out the grand double doors. Though in response to her submission, twilight enshrouded the majority of the kingdom like a mist and the people of Hyrule warped and faded into spirits. 

At some point the girl stood, going to stare back out the window. Towards the end, her voice grew thick and it had gotten difficult for her to speak. She pauses and when Link begins to wonder if that was the end of her story, she turns around once more to face them. 

Even with the hood of darkness, Link gets the sense that she has drawn back. Thrown up defenses to keep her pride and sanity intact. With all that has happened within such a short span of time, Link does not think that he can blame her. 

“The kingdom succumbed to twilight, but I remain its princess.” 

Without any further pretense or time for thought, she reaches up her gloved hands and tosses her hood back, revealing her face to a wolf and an imp. 

Immediately, he is taken aback by her beauty. Even under the shade of a rather unflattering and ragged cloak, she retains a regal air about her. It is in the way she sets her shoulders back and lifts her chin up in defiance and dignity. Looking at her now, it would be impossible to deny that she is the epitome of royalty. 

Her dark brown hair falls down around her face–ties back at the top to make room for the pretty crown that sits even prettier upon her head–and curls into a braid at the bottom where it rests kissing the small of her back. Her skin is clear and smooth, sparkling even in the glowing embers of twilight around them. Her nose, cheekbones, and jaw are all sharp lines with soft edges, powerful yet endearingly delicate. Link’s thoughts lag behind as they race to catch up, but then he finds her eyes and suddenly all words seem to fail him. 

The color of her eyes is some weird hue of blue. It’s something entirely new and unfamiliar: something he can’t quite place or define. It’s as if the shade itself exists solely to color and describe the steel that is her eyes. Looking into them gives Link a sort of queer feeling. 

They give the Princess the look of someone who demands respect. They’re intimidating and obsolete, but they aren’t callous. A little cold, sure, and daunting to his more humble mind, but Link doesn’t get the sense that the woman before him–his sovereign princess–is of a cruel nature. 

His spine straightens and his wolf stands up taller. 


	2. The Way Life Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Life moves on the way life does but some things are prettier the way life was." —FINNEAS, Life Moves On

How does one go back to how things were?

This is a question that has been plaguing Link’s thoughts for weeks. As each night grows more restless than the last and he tries everything—twisting and turning in his bed that suddenly strikes him as way too soft after sleeping on such hard grounds as a wolf—to come up with some sort of answer to said question, he becomes increasingly worried that he will never return. He is not simply waiting by the precipice of change, he has already ventured long past it. Change is not a debate or an option, it is his new reality. 

He walks the worn dirt road of Ordon, climbs the modest ladder to his home, blows tunes with the grass and shoots arrows at all the same dummies, but nothing about it feels familiar. He stares into the eyes of the people he’s known all his life but as theirs fill with fondness and gratitude and a newfound awe, his remain empty. 

He isn’t sure if they can see it reflected on his face, he always has been rather good at keeping even his reactions to himself, but he is no longer anything more than a stranger to them now. This is a truth he knows. 

_—And as he thinks this, it also leads him to wonder if there is anyone out there in the world who isn’t a stranger. He racks his mind trying to think of one person that understands him as he is now, but he comes up far too short._

_No, he realizes, there is not. For the only person who did—who changed with him even—is now but a sharp, painful, distant memory. She is lost to a twilight that no longer shines through the planes of his realm._

Looking in his mirror, he can’t point a single thing that differentiates him from the boy he was before, yet he does not recognize the hues of blue that stare back at him through the silver lined reflection—

It is not a surprise when Ilia finds him. 

She meets him right where it all started. The grove looks different at night. It is not the bright strands of sunlight that bounce off every corner, the darkness instead leaves room for only the pale rays of moonlight to reflect off the water, offering all the various arrays of plants and flowers and other foliage with no life or supplements with which to maintain themselves. They all wilt beneath its presence. The darkness is, after all, much harder to get used to than the light. 

Yes, Link thinks, it all does look very different. Though, whether that is from the pitch of nighttime or the changing of his perspective, he’d rather not say. 

She approaches him with sloshing steps, her feet dragging heavily through the water like leaden weights. It takes her mere moments to find her place beside him where he stands justly in the center of the pool, his face tilted up to the moon. But somehow it feels longer to him. 

He surmises it must have been easy to find him. Even with the comfort and private dwellings of his own house, the vast majority of his time was always spent here. Just him and Epona most days, Colin occasionally being permitted to join whenever he fancied. The thought makes him smile shrewdly up to his celestial companion. 

How cruel it is that he can still be so easily read by his best friend, even as he has changed so much and his reasonings are so glaringly different. Link supposes he always was a creature of habit. He doubts that would ever change at least. 

Epona, their only other guest, neighs and slinks silently to the far corner of the grove. 

His eyes don’t open as he feels the burning trail Ilia’s eyes leave as they rake over him. It scorches his skin and burns a whole into the side of his head, but he isn’t certain he desires to see the look on her face now. No, he would rather stay like this a while longer first. Ignore his problems just a little longer. 

Thankfully, the girl does not elect to speak and Link is grateful. Instead, she allows for her legs to collapse beneath her and slouches into a sitting position in the shallow water. 

His neutrality cracks and he arches a bemused eyebrow. The words _“You’re getting all wet”_ is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t seem to push them past his teeth. Of course, it is not like she is unaware so Link decides not to press it. 

Again she looks up at him as if extending an invitation to join her and Link hesitates for a moment. She takes this as answer enough and goes back to picking at the fraying fabric of her skirt, now wet and dripping in her palm. Link waits a bit longer before making up his mind—he isn’t sure how long exactly, it all passes in silence and he’s starting to think his sense of time has become slightly skewed since his return to Ordon—and taking a seat next to her. 

Her intake of breath is sharp as she parts her lips, his heightened senses hearing the large gulp she takes as though to swallow a lump in her throat. In that short, infinitesimal moment before her vocal chords strum together to make words, he wonders what she will say, 

Will she pity him? Will she be gentle and understanding—not quite what she is known for but sincere when extended nonetheless—or will she be punishing and confront him directly? 

“I’m sorry.”

Whatever he was expecting, it was not that and Link blinks furiously in confusion, his head rearing back. His mouth opens and closes lamely as he tries to make sense of what she could possibly be apologizing for but not a single thing comes to mind. 

Ilia is somehow able to see his reaction through the thick blanket of darkness and with his wolf sight Link can spot a sardonic smirk as it curls her lips demurely. Another moment passes and she doesn’t make to continue, but even through the summer air heavy with heat they can both feel that she will. It is palpable and he does not rush her. 

Slowly, she rolls her shoulders back as she clears her throat. “I’m sorry,” She repeats, her voice thick and slightly, almost imperceptibly unsteady. “For forgetting you.”

Something in his chest dips dangerously low, like when he’s riding a horse and it takes a jump. It feels akin to the way his stomach drops on the way down. He feels his lungs restrict for a moment and he swallows thickly. 

His nose burns for a second as he has to bite back the instinct to laugh hollowly. How had he been so foolish? How had he been so blind? So selfish? 

Of course, he is not the only one who suffered the terror of twilight. Yes, he may have been one of the only residents of Hyrule to live it, experience it, learn it, and see the beauty in it. However, he is not the only one influenced by its absence. He is not the sole survivor to live in the after. 

He is not the only one to ache or change. 

He is not the only one to feel out of place. 

This time, it is Link who looks at her and the half-smile that adorns his face isn’t entirely what it used to be, but it does come just that much easier. 

“I forgive you.” He croaks, because sometimes you don’t want or need to be told what is and isn’t your fault. Sometimes you just want to know you are forgiven. 

Ilia’s subsequent smile is much more successful than his, though still not exactly the same either. Still, the sight brings some of his breath back and the air around him thins slightly and he takes a deep inhale of it. 

And, in the spirit of forgiveness, Link cranes his head back up to the sky. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that I’m not the same.”

From his peripheral, he watches as Ilia shrugs, her chin falling to rest in her palm, her elbow propped on her knee. “You’re forgiven,” She sighs in exhale, her voice just as soft but now a little lighter. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not sure any of us really are.” 

And for some reason, at his own expense, this actually does make Link smile. A prickle of sweet self-loathing shoots through him. “No. I guess I haven’t.” 

They do not speak again after that, content to sit in silence and simply absorb each other’s company. And in between chirps from crickets and locusts, Link’s eyes fall closed and his thoughts wander back to a certain Twili. Her pretty eyes, dusty blue skin, her sad smile. 

In his mind’s eye, he finds the moon and he whispers his own silent, internal apology. One that he knows, and laments, will never go through. 

_I’m sorry, Midna._

_I’m sorry._

For that is all he seems to know how to say. 

**xxx**

They meld back together much smoother after that. Him and Ilia. 

The grove has become their sacred escape. From it, they watch. The sky, the village, Epona, the struggles and woes of life. He still does not speak much, and her less than before, but at least now they are able to carry a conversation with each other easily enough. Once they find the need to say something, anyway. 

Watching Colin has become a favorite and preferred pastime of theirs. Much to their delight, one of their only delights these days, he seems to be one of the few who has changed for the better. No longer does he shuffle about the village with his head held down or the teasing and tattling of the other children behind him. Link would like to think that he has been too busy enjoying himself to notice the distance between them lately, but he knows that this is naive. 

No, Colin notices, but fortunately for Link’s comfort, even as a child he seems to understand that it is something he does not wish to speak about. Something that must be worked out on his own. He still finds the time to visit though and that, Link finds, he can almost enjoy as he once did. 

Often, when the scenery permits, Link will catch himself staring past the rolling hills to the castle. 

So far away, yet he can’t help but think that he feels as though he left a part of him back there. With Ganondorf and Midna and the princess. It is as though a new life started when he exited its walls, one that he is not sure will ever suffice. Briefly, he chews on the idea that the princess might feel the same. She is, he remembers every time with a start, the only other being in this land to have met—and lost—Midna. 

Her friend. 

But he shakes the thought away as Ilia calls him back. Even if that were the case, he chooses to believe that it is not. He has to. For it cannot provide either of them with any solace. She is a princess. She lives in the castle. And he is just a poor, humble, back-country boy with a folly for swordsmanship. Their paths, under any other circumstances, would never have crossed. 

Maybe it’s best if they stay that way. 

**xxx**

They sit on his roof in the early afternoon sun, a mighty banana in her hand and his head resting on his arm as he lays down, staring up at the baby blue sky. 

Ilia blinks blurrily down to where Colin and her father tend to Epona, her expression knitted with worry. “You think they’ll be okay with her?” She asks, her frown and wavering voice belying her obvious doubt. “Maybe we should climb down and help.” 

Link cracks an eye open to level her with a knowing look. “They’ll be fine. Colin started working with the other horses weeks ago and he’s known Epona for years. Give him a break.”

“Actually, it’s my father I’m worried about.” She jests and Link croaks out a stunted snort of laughter. 

“I’m sure the Mayor can handle himself fine.”

“Yes, because you haven’t seen him in the kitchen.”

“Well, lucky for us all that has nothing to do with herding animals.”

Ilia sighs and folds her now empty banana peel beside her to dispose of later. “I’m just saying. He’d be nowhere without me.”

She preens as she says this and Link manages to smirk fondly. “Oh, I’m sure.”

They fall quiet now as the hustle and bustle of Ordon grows louder below them. Granted, they can’t exactly see the village given how remote Link’s hut happens to be from the rest of them, but the sound of the daily grind still manages to travel through the thicket of trees up to their ears. Link allows himself to lull to the sound of it. Muffled from the distance, it sounds a bit softer than it would up close, like a far away lullaby of a better time and he almost falls asleep to it—

“What was it like there?” 

—until Ilia interrupts him. 

Link frowns and bites his lip to keep from grumbling. He hasn’t been fortunate enough to find much sleep during the later hours of the day and he was looking keenly forward to that nap. However, because she has been that way since they were children, Link knows that Ilia’s questions will not cease until her curiosity has been satiated. 

With a heavy sigh of his own, Link grunts and pushes himself back up into a sitting position. 

Ilia simply stares at him expectantly and Link has to rub his eyes as they readjust to the light. He blinks. “What?”

The teen nods off in no particular direction, her eyes similarly far away. “Out there. Beyond the forest provinces. What was it like?”

He gets the sense that she has a specific destination in mind, but does not say as much. “The rest of Hyrule?”

Her sandy-blonde hair falls in her eyes due to its new longer length at her shoulders as she glares impatiently at him. “You know what I mean. Yes, the rest of Hyrule,” A flicker of intrigue passes over her eyes as her lips fold into a cautious smile. “What was the most interesting place you went to?”

Link does not need much time to conclude that _the twilight realm was quite the marvel_ , but the words feel strangely like bile on his tongue and get stuck in his throat. Ilia of course knows, along with the rest of Hyrule—a thought he is still reconciling with—that he visited the place to defeat Ganondorf, but somehow it feels wrong to talk about it out loud. 

It feels almost like a secret, something not for anyone to know. 

He shakes his head to get rid of the thought. 

Quickly, he picks through his brain for his second place slot, a wistful, amused smile working its way onto his face. Oh yes, he isn’t likely to forget about _that_ anytime soon. 

Reaching out to point somewhere off beyond the trees, Link grins as he remembers this chance encounter. “If you go all the way north and head a ways east, you’ll enter the tundra the residents call Snowpeak territory.” 

Ilia’s eyes widen, her mouth drops open in wonder, and her brows inch up into her hairline. “There are actually people occupying that land? I thought it was inhabitable?”

He shrugs cryptically. “It is.” 

With a scoff and a pout, Ilia reaches back to throw her banana peel at him. Link manages to laugh, a sound he’d nearly forgotten the tune of, and catches it easily. He holds it between his fingers and threatens to toss it back, but Ilia crosses her arms. 

“Link!”

“Okay, okay,” He chuckles with a shake of his head, putting the peel back down. “So, yes it is inhabitable for Hylians… and Zora and Gerudo, but I never said that the residents were of the sort now, did I?”

“Link, I swear to Hylia if you do not get to the point I will—” But she only huffs as she spots his irritatingly arrogant smirk and moves herself to turn and face him properly, doing her best to put a lid on her flaring temper. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

“Thank you,” He nods and again points north, not that it can do much when they are surrounded by forest on all sides. “Once you get to the snowy mountain region, if you walk far enough, you’ll come across a manor. Or, really it looks like it used to be some sort of training ground as well, I’m not exactly sure—but! The couple who live inside?” He pauses here for dramatic effect and Ilia squirms in anticipation, hanging on to his every word. “Yeti’s.”

Her jaw drops. “ _Yeti’s_ ?”

Link hums, laying back down and draping his other arm over his eyes. “They’re a nice couple, generous, too. They asked me to come back actually, last.. I saw…” 

His words trail off here and Link wonders if he will ever make good on his promise to return for a visit or if it will become just another string of empty words and shattered expectations. 

Tension prickles the edges of their awareness as the same realization appears to dawn on Ilia as well. For a moment, Link wonders if she will say anything, but after a while it becomes clear that she will not. The moment for comment has passed and Link ignores her when his ears pick up her careful descent down the ladder and back to the ground. He ignores her hesitant exit and instead does his best to focus back on the sound of the village, hoping that now he can finally take that nap. 

But now that Ilia is gone, that tired, dull, throb sinks back into his bones and the heavy void seeps back into his chest. 

_What a marvel_ , he finds himself repeating and thinking back to. _What a marvel she was._

**xxx**

That morning didn’t seem any different from any other. 

He woke up as he usually did, later than he used to yet with still notably less hours of rest, and pulled his clothes on to get ready for the day. He climbed down his ladder, trekked the winding dirt path to Ordon, met Ilia and this time Colin for some breakfast before walking with the latter to the ranch to tend to the farm. Even though everything else has changed, and he isn’t the person he was when he started this work, it’s one thing Link found that has stayed very much the same. 

He hasn’t yet decided how he feels about that because— _he feels like he’s just acting a part. All his friends and neighbors, they think him the same. They call him Link, but really, the person they are addressing is no longer there. He lost him in the twilight, miles and miles away from Ordon’s road._

Nothing was supposed to be any different. 

Except today, the village received a visitor. No one they recognized, of course, but the sigil branded on the flag they carried and the armor they donned was oh so very familiar. At least, he should hope so, considering it is the family crest of their sovereign. 

The princess—no, Link reminds himself—their new queen had sent a handful of guard’s and pages to their overrun corner of the land. 

As the guards strut into town on their tall horses, looking down their roman noses at them all, whispers begin to fly amongst the villagers. Like wildfire, gossip and a few giggles can be heard, each speculating as to just why exactly they have come. Or maybe more accurately, _who_ they have come for. 

They each look painfully out of place here amongst them. Their armor, too polished and silver, reflects the fractured rays of sunlight with glaring harshness, blinding a few people in the crowd that has formed around them. Their posture is too straight, their manners too refined, articulation too elegant. No one in Ordon has seen or heard such things before, except for the Mayor and now Link, something that does not slip his notice. 

Their horses stop a good way into the square, lingering slightly to the east of the village. They seem to be scanning the crowd for something, or someone, in particular. Link freezes in place, unsure whether or not he wants to be seen. 

_What could this mean?_

A sea of blank yet curious faces stare up at them, and the guard in the front clears his throat awkwardly. He lifts his chin. “We are looking for someone. We were told that he resides here.” 

The Mayor pushes to the front, crossing his arms pensively over his chest. “You’s be castle guards, no?” He asks, though he already sounds rather sure of his answer. Ilia stands behind him, her eyes roaming over them, over the luxury and opulence that seems to cling to their skin like a scent, setting them apart from the rest. “What are ya doin’ all the way out here?”

While usually respectfully diplomatic, the minced implication of mistrust is there in his words. Ordon has never been on bad terms with any other region or province of the kingdom before. How could they? They are not big or significant enough to warrant such concern nor hostility from others. And they have always been loyal to the crown. Yet, even Link cannot deny that a group of guards suddenly showing up out of the blue is a rather intimidating sight for the small village. 

He feels a tug on his sleeve and he looks down to find Colin, staring up at him inquisitively. Giving it only a moment of thought, Link nods and reaches down to lift him up and seat him on his shoulders to see. 

He does his best not to frown at the mesmerized little gasp he lets loose when he spots the guards. 

The guard bristles slightly, his face scrunching up in displeasure with his lack of an answer, but neutralizes his expression quickly. “The Queen gave us specific instructions. She wishes to speak personally with a resident of Ordon and has sent us to retrieve him.”

Link doesn’t like the way that sounds. As though whoever this person is is nothing more than an object to be delivered or a dog that strayed too far from the porch. 

Colin’s grip in his hair tightens. 

Another wave of thinly veiled whispers erupt across the crowd. The Mayor ignores them. “And who might that be?”

A beat. 

“Link.” The guard says and suddenly the whispers stop. 

Everything is quiet. 

His stomach drops. 

“If there is anyone here by that name,” He announces, only he is talking to the crowd now, his voice booming over their heads and raising to be heard and Link is sure that it resounds for miles. “Please come forward.”

All eyes turn to him and Link wishes desperately to disappear. Never have so many people looked at him so directly, so questioningly. Something in his chest flip flops and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. It is like the air purposefully evades his lungs in favor of anxiety as it races up his spine. 

Yet somehow, the guard has not spotted him yet. In this second, he considers running. Perhaps he will be lucky enough to slip his notice. 

He feels that he should do something here. Say something, take a step forward, square his shoulders, but he seems unable to move, his feet deeply rooted in place. He avoids eye contact at all costs, not sure if he likes being looked at as someone better, someone different. 

_Ah, but he is different. Isn’t he?_

And the queen of Hyrule has just called upon his company and, though Link may be little more than a peasant boy, even he understands that one never refuses the queen. 

“Link,” Colin whispers and he remembers himself, moving only enough to put him down. He stares up at him with wide, shiny eyes that seem to be telling him something in a language he no longer understands. “You have to go up there.”

His head shakes in a nod he does not recall initiating and Colin makes a gesture with his small, chubby hands forward and, hollowly, Link takes a step. Next another, then another. With each, he must force his feet up and off the ground, then out to continue and his teeth are clenched so tight, he fears they may shatter. His eyes roam the faces of his neighbors, meeting an assortment of different colors and expressions, but he does not see them. Everything is out of focus and the only thing he can see is the blurry green of treetops and the only sound that comes through is the blood that pumps in his brain. 

People part for him as he passes in the fashion that birds and forest animals do when they come face to face with a hunter. His eyes are trained down now as he crests upon the front of the crowd, anywhere but at the guard when a hand flies out to stop him, gripping at his shoulder. 

Ilia passes him a worried glance and Link looks back at her with empty eyes. 

His breath halts in his throat as he stands now before the guard, forcing his gaze upward to look him in the eye. Everything is quiet around as him as though this moment here is one to be remembered, a notion only bolstered by the peacefulness of the nature that surrounds them. 

The only thought running though his head is one loud, echoing question of: _Why is this happening?_ Why has the princ—the queen called for him? What is the purpose of this?

The guard’s face remains impassive as his eyes sweep over him in haughty assessment, the only thing to give away any sense of emotion being the ever so slight curl of his upper lip. Link thinks now that he doesn’t like the attention. 

Nonetheless, the guard straightens up and retrieves a slip of parchment from his armor. He bends down just enough to hand it to him. “The Queen requests your presence in the castle immediately,” He says and Link opens the letter, his eyes scanning quickly over it, even though he can only process very little. Above him, the guard shifts on his horse. “She wishes to speak to you.” 

When he speaks, it is with no small amount of disdain. From his tone, Link concurs that such things simply do not happen. Such things _should not_ happen. And he doesn’t know why, but suddenly he feels far out of his depth. 

Even so, he clears his throat, his expression fixed. “When shall we leave?”

“Now.”

**xxx**

They give him very little time to pack his things, not that he has much. Still, his goodbyes to Ilia and Colin were little more than hurried hugs and rushed promises to be safe on the roads. He barely had time to explain that even if he could not fight the monsters and bandits off himself, then he very well could not be in better hands. Hopefully. 

He only just mounts Epona before they are off; one guard in front of him, two behind him, and what Link assumed to be the head guard beside him. 

It only dawns upon Link after a full hour of silently following the horse in front of him that he does not know how long the queen requested him for. He spares a quick glance to his rather small bag of possessions and back at the blank faces surrounding him. 

The sky had begun to bleed tones of oranges and pale yellows no more than fifteen minutes ago and the summer air cools slightly with it. The sunset casts a glow across the already vibrant grass and paints a pretty picture across the landscape before them. He knows that Epona could go on for much longer if she wanted, but even with the lack of actual things to do and activities to engage in, Link thinks that it has been a rather exhausting day. He doesn’t know what it is about the thought of seeing the princess again—Queen! The queen, he reminds himself—but it leaves him emotionally drained, knowing full well that he is walking into this with his eyes wide open.

Completely unprepared. 

Though, he supposes that he may be able to finally appreciate the grand Hyrule Castle in all its ostentatious entirety this time. The twilight is gone and his wolf form interchangeable. Perhaps he will finally be able to admire it properly. 

Darkness falls very soon after, enshrouding them in a blanket of thick shadows and stars. The air is cooler, but it still hangs heavy on his skin. The heat feels like a comfortable weight, something exciting and familiar as it embraces him. However, judging by the looks on the guards faces and their regretful shortage of thinner clothing, Link deduces that they do not feel the same. 

They decide to make camp a few hours away from the nearest town. Granted, they could have toughed it out until they got there, but Link imagines that they might not be a sight you want to see in the middle of the night. The thought of a handful of imposing Queen’s Guards and a weary village boy turning up at someone’s inn in the middle of the night wouldn’t exactly be a welcome sight to most. 

The guards, despite their undoubtedly impressive skill and experience, are clearly not accustomed to forest dwelling. Because this, Link sticks out like a sore thumb in yet another regard. 

He gets him and Epona settled very quickly, their drab and makeshift tent made mostly of careless loose fabrics. Admittedly, Link mostly sleeps either in his house or on the ground, and the image of something so in between is a bit foreign to him, but he still had little trouble getting it all together. Something, he notices, cannot be said for the guards accompanying him. 

And so, he elects to make rounds around camp, offering a helping hand where it is appreciated. 

It is during one such event, helping a petulant and pouty guard with his tarp, that a wry, lop-sided smirk folds the corners of his lips down. He catches his mind drifting back to the queen. 

Not too long ago, the fabled Princess Zelda of Hyrule was little more than an abstract thought. Back then, he was little more than an orphaned village boy from one of the smallest provinces in the kingdom. Their worlds were created separate and the closest he ever got to her life was mindless little glimpses at the castle when no one was looking. They were born to walk such starkly opposite paths… 

Sometimes Link thinks he will wake up one morning and find that all of this was a dream. 

The only twilight he knew of was the darkening of the day, the only animal he related to was Epona, the biggest dream he had was one day spending an evening wandering about Castle Town, and the only princess he ever knew was the kind he heard about in legends and song. What a life, he thought, that he used to live. And how extraordinary a dream this new one would’ve been. 

_Then he remembers the nightmares. The loss. The dark shadows that still plague him whenever he looks too hard at the corner of his room._

Link shakes his head. 

_No_ , he decides as he finishes with the tent and moves on to the next. _Not a dream at all. Just an extraordinary nightmare._

**xxx**

Their travels continue on for days. And everyday it looks the same. 

From time to time, he often finds himself hoping that the guards sent to accompany him were not the best the queen had. They may be competent with a sword, but not much else seems to be put to use where logic and common sense are concerned. He frowns as they press forward, the castle coming ever increasingly into view. He supposes he will just have to tell her of his concerns when he gets there. 

If he can manage to find the words that is. 

Still, every night sets the same scene as darkness falls. From within in his tent, Link remains tormented by the thoughts that come on the precipice of sleep. 

_Memories and remains of vivid orange waves like soft flames licking down her back. Of haunting eyes that remind him of red rupees, all sparkling and polished and shined to perfection. The hazy echo of glowing blue that stays imprinted on the back of his eyes whenever they close._

He doesn’t get much sleep on the road. Every day is the same and the nights are even more predictable. He makes his tent and climbs into his blankets just to throw them back and sit under the consistent company of the moon instead. 

His mind is fixated on one princess, and left with no other remedies, his eyes always seek out the home of another. 

**xxx**

They crest the last of Hyrule Field only two days later. 

Over two weeks of traveling in their small group and finally Link can see the hustle and bustle of Castle Town. The sight and scent and rowdy hoots and hollers that resonate from Telma’s tavern brings a warmth back to his chest he hasn’t felt in months. As they pass it, Link finds himself hoping to catch her eye, but alas, duty always calls. 

_It always calls._

Now that the twilight is gone and the inhabitants of Hyrule have taken the past few months to go back to their normal lives, Castle Town bursts with energy. 

Last Link had seen it, the capital city was hollow and vacant and eclipsed—with the rest of the kingdom—in somber, dark shadows. The only people he’d been able to find were those holed up in Telma’s tavern, which was admittedly very few. But now? Now, all the dark colors and shades of grey have been replaced with vibrant red and yellows and banners and flags bearing the kingdom’s signature vivid blue are strung up around every corner. People cross all the streets, some ushering young children behind them, strolling hand-in-hand with a partner, or hobbling along with a grandparent in tow. Yelling and laughing and the sound of hooves against pavement echo in his ears. Granted, coming from tiny Ordon this is far from what he’s used to, yet watching the residents flit across vision with bright eyes and smiling faces just makes everything it took to get here worth it. 

As their little group continues on through the center of town, passersbys stare unabashedly. Link in particular seems to draw many sets of curious, wandering eyes but he clears his throat and steels his face forward. People coming in and out of shops stop to watch as they ride by and Link makes the assumption that the Queen’s Guard must not often come into town. 

The guard beside him catches him staring and makes a gruff noise of indignance and Link takes this as his cue to remain focused on their destination. 

Hyrule Castle. 

It is not long before they are standing beneath the archway of a massive wall, wrapping protectively around the castle. A hazy memory of his wolf walking along it bubbles up in his mind and he hopes that with the resurgence of the kingdom, such a feat will prove to be much more difficult now. 

The guard in front converses tensely with the guard at the archway as they pass under it. Suddenly, the castle looks much bigger now that they are up close. Yet another guard by the door leaves, presumably to alert the queen, and briefly his thoughts flicker back to the last time he was here. Secretly, keeping the thought locked far away as though somehow it could be heard by those around him, Link thinks that the gothic castle fits the omnience of twilight much better than the bright, golden beams of day. 

Just as he is wondering the punishment such a thought could warrant him, a hush falls over the miniature courtyard and all the guards crouch into a low kneel around him. In the back of his mind, Link is aware of the only thing this gesture could mean, yet presently, he frowns and looks around for the source of such reverence. 

“Link.”

His breath catches painfully in his throat. His heart skips and then stops. 

_That voice,_ he thinks, _is much more familiar than he expected it to be._ He can count on only one hand the amount of times he has spoken with the then princess, yet he struggles to identify when exactly the soft lilting and elegant sternness of her vowels became so distinct in his mind. And as Link grasps at straws, trying to recognize the moment the sound of his name on her tongue began to send shivers down his spine he—

—He forgets to kneel. 

Something flickers across her face at this and for a moment he worries he has offended her, but she merely begins to take the steps down to his lower platform one at a time. Her movements are sweeping and graceful, her back straight and her chin up, the sun glistening brilliantly off the brunette of her long hair. Each step she takes resounds in his ears like the beat of an impending drum. 

A prickle of fear begs him to edge forward. Into a kneel or even a simple nod of acknowledgement and respect, but he can’t seem to move his limbs. 

The Queen meets him at the bottom. The light reflects off her eyes—more of a violet than a blue. Link waits for the pendulum to swing and knock him backwards. 

Instead, she surprises him. 

Her lips twist into a pleasant smile. Lacking in any sort of warmth to reach her eyes, it makes up for it in respect and decency. “Link,” She says again and again he must try his hardest not to react to the way it sounds in the tones of her voice. “I’m glad you came.” 

As though finally regaining his wits, Link does his best to imitate a bow, too flustered to care if he has gotten it right. “Anything for you, my Queen.” 

Another flicker. Has he said the wrong thing already? 

She spreads her arm out to gesture back towards the castle. “Come,” She commands, yet the delicacy of her syllables make it sound much more like a suggestion. One that anyone would be foolish to ignore. “There is much to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...i finally got around to making this a series? hopefully. 
> 
> everything i start i want and plan to finish but i literally cannot even give an estimate as to when the next chapter will come out or how long this will be. i'm kinda just winging it to be completely honest with y'all. i just write out the story in my head and cut the chapters off where i see fit so... yeah some may vastly vary in length! also, apologies that most of these scenes are pretty short, i'm not very good at writing really long scenes in one sitting but i hope you enjoy this anyway! this will mostly just be a regaling of tp zelink after the twilight according to my personal hcs! thanks for reading and comments are very much appreciated! <3


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